Seeing Through the Cracks

Chapter 6

It's 4:00 a.m. and we have been awake for more hours than I'd like to recall. I have been able to feel the fuzz growing on my teeth throughout the night, and I'm sick of Red Bull. We're more than done with this drive. So when we enter into another stretch of highway, I think nothing of it at first. Then I notice the four large transport trucks coming towards us in the other lane. And the one at the back wants to pass the other three.

Very recent memories of the bus instantly spring to mind. Once again there's no time to stop, and no way to avoid a collision. My heart is pounding, everyone in the car has started yelling about the impending danger, my palms are sweaty, the panic is filling up the air, suffocating us as we brace for impact.

The passing truck finds a way to squeeze in closer to its buddies. I pull over as much as possible to the furthest side of the road. This will be close. This will be a few inches kind of close.

I can feel the wind sweep my hair as the transport passes, a cool breeze blasting by, the kiss of another death that could have been. And yet, here we all still are. We're now teetering on the edges of our own sanity. This trip has moved from dangerous to ludicrous in the blink of an eye. I'm not done yet though. Even with every ounce of my body groaning at me, begging me to just pull over and quit, I push onwards.

Morning begins rearing its head and we are now aware that we are going to witness sunrise in the mountains of Mexico. Thankfully we are now travelling west and the sun comes up behind us. It would have been blinding to have it appear in my sightline while driving. It's actually exciting to experience the dawn, and gives us something to direct our attention to. It also brings light for my driving, making the dark, ominous roads a thing of the past. This gives me hope. But we have been travelling for so long and have still not reached our destination that I worry we will not actually be able to return the rental car by 10:00 a.m. We are seeing signs now telling us the distance we still need to drive before reaching Mexico City, and it seems an arduous task. My body is running on fumes, with little or no nutrition or sleep. My legs and arms are sore. I'm hungry for food and water. And it is obvious that we will not be falling into a hotel bed when we finally arrive. We will need to check in for our flight home. This has already become an exceptionally long journey and it's not over yet.

We arrive at another tollbooth and are now completely out of pesos. We have no idea how we will get through. I have Canadian money in my purse and suggest that we offer it. The booth authorities refuse my ten-dollar bill and start yelling at me in Spanish and waving their arms for me to back up. I cannot back up; the car's gear doesn't work, and I do not know how to articulate this back to them. I can speak only a few words in Spanish at best, and I am scared and frustrated. My body begins to shake inside, the terror rising to my chest. Nick is now in the passenger seat beside me and sees that I am panicked. He begins to speak in Spanish to the two uniformed men. I am never more pleased that we encouraged Nick to study languages. He manages to interpret their directions and tells me that they are saying that they can only accept Mexican pesos or American dollars. This isn't helpful; I don't have any American funds with me. I see a dark image, in my mind, of the four of us being carried off to a Mexican prison, and I begin to feel the terror of defeat. And then from the back seat, Myles tells us that her mother had given her a $50 American bill to take on the trip and that she doesn't remember exchanging it for pesos during the vacation. What feels like five minutes is really just seconds, but Myles eventually retrieves that bill from the bottom of her purse. None of us can believe our fortune and all of us are relieved by her mom's financial gesture; never in a million years would she have known how desperately that money would be needed. It is another of the many miracles we have been witness to on this incredibly insane adventure.

We hand over the money to pay our toll, and fortunately we are given back the change in pesos; none of us were sure that would happen. We are now in the clear if there is another tollbooth to pass through before arriving at the airport. And our faith in humanity continues. We have been gifted so many opportunities to see that people are essentially good, despite the stories and warnings we have heard about Mexico. I do understand that there is criminal activity here; I am not that naïve, but we have somehow been guided and protected through this part of the world, unscathed by any of it. The airport representatives, the rental car staff, the gas and snack station attendants, the tollbooth operators, and the others drivers on the road have all shown us nothing but kindness. We have discovered many more earth angels. We have been blessed and I do not take it for granted. There are more miles to travel, and we start to feel more optimistic that everything will be fine.